


Interrogation

by avagueidea



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Ben being Kylo Ren isn't generally announced Head Canon, Buncha Short Memories, F/M, I really don't know how to tag this. Sorry!, M/M, Minor Non-Canon Character Death, Other, Pan Poe, Poe and Ben grew up often on the same bases Head Canon, Poe falls in love a lot, Psychological Torture, Uhm... kinda sad?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 00:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5723482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avagueidea/pseuds/avagueidea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe Dameron wasn't shy about falling in love. He'd done it a lot, and he was probably going to do many more times. That is, if he can make it through this interrogation in one piece. Physical torture he had been ready for, but what the Force could do to his mind, well, there was no way he could have prepared for that.</p><p>(I wanted to explore what it was that made Poe break, and the concept of Poe happily falling in love whenever he gets the chance. So, this happened.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interrogation

**Author's Note:**

> So, Instead of doing anything productive yesterday, I watched Star Wars (ep 5-6) and wrote this. ~~I'm such a good adult.~~  
>  I just really like to hurt myself, and the idea that Poe falls in love like ALL THE TIME.
> 
> Quick drabble written all in one go.  
> No real editing so sorry if there are any crazy typoes!

Poe Dameron was sitting on top of his first X-wing; not the one he was training in, not the one he was using for the current mission, his. It had been assigned that morning to him and it was perfect, patched up hull and bits of rust and all. It was a warm day on the base and he’d taxied her outside onto the runway to scrub her down. Now he was just admiring her. He wasn’t even sitting in the starfigher, but instead he’d climbed up to sit on her nose to get a good view. He felt the heat radiating off of the battle worn ship and admired the gleam of those places where the paint hand chipped off entirely to show the sleek metal underneath the crumbling paint job.

Poe couldn’t imagine who could ever retire from flying such a beautiful thing, but he thanked the old pilot with all his whole heart because it meant this X-wing was his. He could just hug the beautiful hunk of metal… in fact, he would. The heat sunk into his whole torso as he laid out over the ship, his ship. He took in the scent of a hundred battles mingling with the strong earthy smell of Yavin 4, his home, once the home of the Rebel Alliance, now the home to part of The Resistance. He’d always been proud to have grown up with the Resistance, to have his heritage mingled with that of the Rebel Alliance. He was only two when the Empire fell, but he still felt like he had to be part of it all somehow, and now he was. This moment was perfect. It was the culmination of everything he’d grown up striving for. He felt so complete… except… no.

This wasn’t his X-wing.

His X-wing was black and orange, striking, and always retouched with care after each battle it carried him through.

He looked up, disoriented, the sun was suddenly in his eyes, blinding him. He was swept off his home moon. He was in the cockpit now. The spots in his vision cleared into flashing lights, angry beeping and a cacophony of warnings screeching at him. Adrenaline kicked in instantly. He remembered every second of this. It had happened in slow motion then, like his heart had stopped beating, because he was going to die. He plummeted towards the planet, his hands moved on autopilot. The action were burned into his memory as his first ship, the X-wing put into his care, crashed into the water. She dived into the clear blue depths, shot out wing tearing off. He jerked forward. He was sure this time he’d die with his first ship. This time the glass would crack, the water would rush in and he’d die. This time it did.

 

The cold water slammed against him. Poe gasped and sputtered on nothing, jerking against his restraints. He tried gasping for air and was shocked to find it filling his lungs. It came in so sharply it hurt. He fell back against the interrogation board and reoriented himself to reality. He wasn’t on Yavin 4. He wasn’t crashing into a foreign ocean. No... He was alive, and he was being tortured. Right.

Not exactly tortured in the classical sense. That had been all done the day before. That type of torture he understood. He hadn’t been prepared for this, though.

Poe had known that Jedi, and Sith, had some power over a people’s mind; that somehow The Force could let them sift through thoughts and influence them. When he’d accepted this mission he was warned about it. He was going deep into First Order territory, where the possibility of capture increased exponentially each system deeper he moved. He still couldn’t have possibly been ready for how _real_ it all felt.

“I expected resistance, but I’m impressed,” a deep mechanical voice rolled over him, and Poe resisted the shiver that threatened to roll down his spine. He wouldn’t give the Sith the satisfaction. “How did you know?” There was a hint of curiosity in the voice even through the modulator. That surprised Poe. He wouldn’t have expected the Sith to admit any ignorance when he’d first stepped into the room, minutes? Hours? Days ago? He realized he had no sense of time any longer. Hell, he could have been down there a month at this point. He had no way of telling.

The question still hung in the air and he smirked as if he had any idea what he’d done. “You can’t make a man forget his current love, just by throwing an old flame out in front of him,” he assured, cursing the waver in his voice. He hadn’t expected to be so physically effected by something in his head. It’s true; he’d loved that rust bucket, but he couldn’t forget his freshly painted baby waiting in the hanger bay back home for him. He’d had to leave her behind for this mission, given it’s covert nature, and it hurt every moment to be apart from her.

“So, you aborted by killing yourself.” There was a dry amusement.

Poe didn’t understand, still, but it didn’t matter. “I’m willing to die for my cause, buddy,” he assured, his voice more solid now, thankfully. He stared right into that visor, refusing to be intimidated by the cloaked figure.

“ _You’re_ willing to die…” Kylo Ren mused on those words with a nerve wracking calmness. “Hm.” With that he lifted his hand again and Poe was ashamed that he was cringing before the searing pain inside his skull even started.

 

Poe Dameron had loved a lot of people in his life. He wasn’t shy about falling in love. And if he fell for someone, they’d damn well know it quickly. He wasn’t one for pining and loving from a distance. He was a hands on, straight forward sort of guy. He relished the opportunity to sit down and really get to know someone, to find something to love and cherish about them. Everyone had something beautiful to share if people were willing to look.

Julma was a lanky woman who had at least a good 4 or 5 inches on Poe. She was all lithe limbs and perfectly delicate curves, but she hunched. Her reserved nature told her not to stand out, pulled her in on herself. Poe relished the moments he spotted her on her own, when she thought no one was around to intimidate. She had a willowy elegance to her. Poe wanted her to be comfortable enough to tower over him without any shyness. Poe wanted her to smile with her fellow pilots the way she did at her droid, a clunky old thing with a dry sense of humor, if BB-8’s telling had any truth to it.

 

It was late, and the cafeteria was clear of all but the occasional droid putzing through on some menial task set to be done in the middle of the night to avoid traffic. Julma was laughing and tucking Poe under her chin, long limbs wrapping around him. She was kissing the top of his head and it took only tilting his head back to have her kissing his lips. She threw her head back to laugh and it was musical and beautiful and Poe loved the sound of it echoing through the empty dining hall. While the rest of the world was sleeping, he was finding what he could cherish about Julma.

He closed his eyes as her lips came down to meet his again, but they never met. Arms became familiar harnesses. A crackling message snapped his eyes open to the controls before him.

“Squad leader-B-KZZZTTT-on my tail-kzzz-can’t shake ‘em.” Julma’s voice was half scrambled over the communicators. “BzzKzzt-Been Hi—,” It cut off sharply, Poe’s head snapping around to the flash of lights to his left as her X-Wing was destroyed in an instant.

Poe was back in the cafeteria, the arms around him now limp, Julma’s body slumped forward, dead weight over him.

No.

No! This wasn’t fair. He never saw her dead. He never had to hold her like this. She slumped over and he caught her. She was like a rag doll. Those long limbs didn’t hold any of their grace in death.

This wasn’t fair. She died a pilot. She died in space. He never had to see her dead. He never had to see this!

 

Poe jerked forward, eyes snapping open to the gloved hand in front of him, realization dawning on him that he’d been forced into another trance like state by the Sith delving into his memories. The fingers twisted and his eyes lost focus trying to follow them. His head slipped back again and his eyes screwed shut.

“Who else was willing to die for ‘the cause’?” the deep, distorted voice slipped into his skull and floated off with him as he lost track of the room again, lost track of the world.

 

There was a certain way to harmonize with Poe’s enthusiasm without causing a cacophony. If someone tried to compete, the whole party fell into chaos, but if they harmonized, a good duo could bring even the most stalwart of party poopers in to the thrall. Silar had mastered the art of harmonizing with Poe years before. Transfers had separated them, but a temporary reassignment for a mission reunited the duo and the evening had devolved into drinking and singing. Silar’s warm arm was tossed around his shoulder, pulling him in to laugh almost too loudly in his ear. He was handsome, he was warm, he was wrapped up in Poe’s arms. Poe was pretty sure Silar was everything he wanted right then.

Over all, it was a perfect night, warm and hazy and happy. Even the notoriously unsocial Ben Solo was spotted at the edge of the ruckus that evening.

Trying to slip out from the arm, Poe was tugged back in sharply and scolded. It took a sloppy kiss on the cheek and a repeated promise of returning quickly before he was released to sneak to the edge of the room.

“You should have told me you were back!” Poe announced as he neared, a mock scolding tone.

Ben’s arms were crossed over his chest, shoulders a bit hunched. Poe had to look up at him now. He could feel his grin becoming ridiculous as he realized how tall the teen had become in the past year. 

Ben looked away. He was embarrassed by the grin directed at him, but Poe only grinned wider at the younger man. “Stop it,” he demanded in a mutter, “I just got in a few hours ago and you’ve been… preoccupied.”

“What? This?” Poe waved back at the celebration going on behind him, “We were just warming up for your welcome party,” he lied lovingly. Ben pursed his lips, the party clearly nothing he’d ever want. Poe knew that, but he didn’t care. He reach up to put his hand over the mouth, winning a priceless, startled stare. “No. Nope, none of that face tonight. I’m not moving my hand until you’re smiling,” he insisted. His head was fuzzy; he was drunk. Ben would forgive him, though. He was just that sort of person. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

An annoyed grumble vibrated his hand a little, but as Ben looked away again, Poe could feel his lips twitch up under his hand. He tilted his hand upwards to peak, before putting it back down over his mouth, “Wow. I bet you forgot you could do that.” He peaked again then dropped his hand as he got a full smile, despite the teen’s best efforts to be a grump.

“I’m starting to remember why I left this place to begin with,” Ben insisted, pulling his lips in between his teeth to keep it in a neutral state. He soon gave up, releasing his lips to a soft, tired smile. Poe watched his mouth carefully the whole while.

Poe finally looked over the rest of him. He’d grown up a lot in that year away. His hair had grown out nearly to his shoulders and fell around his face haphazardly. He looked a little less gangly than when he’d left. Poe wanted to reach out and see if it was muscle mass from training or if it was just part of a growth spurt giving him broader shoulders. The Jedi robes made it hard to tell. He stayed his hand though. Ben wasn’t like the rest of the base. He didn’t like casual touches and Poe could show restraint. That is, he thought he could until he looked back up to find Ben looking at him so intently, so expectantly, Poe knew he had to do something. Touch him, hold him, kiss him, something! He grabbed a shoulder and squeezed.

“You _did_ get a little muscle on you!” he announced, feeling triumphant for the 18 year old, finally something other than just skin and bones. His hand slipped down to his bicep to give it a squeeze as well, and he could tell the young man flexed for him, even as he tried to look casual. It made his chest warm up. He acted so indifferent to people sometimes, it was nice to see he did care a little what people thought of him, or at least what Poe thought of him. He wanted to give him all the acceptance he didn’t ask from the rest of the world. He wanted to give him more.

The dark eyes watched him so intently…

Silar’s arm linked around Poe’s and tugged at him, trying to pull him back into the rowdy party behind him. He was warm and handsy in the best way possible, “Poe! You promised to be back! The party is dying without you!” he announced. Ben was frowning, a subtle change from his smile, but Poe had taken some time to study the subtle expressions of Ben Solo. Ben-no… this wasn’t about Ben though…

Silar’s tug became insistent. That wasn’t right. The noise of the party became more cacophonous, more alarming. Suddenly Poe was yanked around. The world spun—a shot—a scream. He was on his knees. Silar gurgled blood staring up at him as he grasped at Poe’s jacket, blaster shot to the head.

 

Poe’s eyes flashed open at the sudden change of pace, startled, but the feeling of absolute misery wasn’t the same. He felt too confused, too lost. He felt dizzy, but not broken. His eyes found the gloved hand again and it seemed too obvious it would be there this time.

The hand pulled back and a growl seemed to crawl out of the mask. Poe didn’t know what he’d done, but it seemed like it had frustrated the Sith wiggling his fingers at him, and that was enough to tug a victorious grin onto his lips. At least he tried to. He felt so worn that even a smirk seemed a monumental task. Determined, though, he was even about to come up with a witty one-liner when the hand pulled back. His head instinctively followed. He didn’t really have a choice. The heat in his head burned again and the world flashed to white.

 

T’leh was a beautiful creature, blue skinned and with the most intense golden eyes. Even before Poe had ever heard their name, he was smitten by the way they moved through the hanger bay, some tool or another in hand or at their hip, ready to fix anything and everything. When T’leh brought his baby back from the dead, Poe could’ve kissed every inch of blue skin, in fact, he intended to if the mechanic was interested. It was the best way he knew to say thank you.

He sauntered up to the mechanic with his inviting smirk already on his lip, but he waited to speak. T’leh was working and he loved to watch them work. They had a way with tools like a Jedi master with a light saber, he always thought; elegant, knowledgeable, and creative. He watched the engine in question slowly come back together before speaking.

“T’leh-,” he didn’t get anything else out. It shouldn’t have surprised him that it was hard to score time with The Resistances’ number one mechanic.

“Excuse me.” A young teen with a mop of dark curly hair on top of his head, despite attempts to keep it cut short and neat, bustled up. “Moth-er-ahem, General Organa requests you come take a look at the new ships that just got in. They have some damage from their trip,” the teen dutifully reported.

“A’right,” T’leh nodded, rubbing hands on a cloth and jumping down from the ship they were working on. Spotting Poe, a sly grin pulls across their lips, “I’ll meet up with you in the mess hall later, hm?” Poe’s smirk was all they needed of an affirmative. They leaned in to brush their lips over his as they left.

“I’ll be waiting,” Poe assured, watching the mechanic go. His eyes eventually drew back to Ben, who had yet to leave. He was frowning at Poe. The 16 year old had such a serious face sometimes. “What?” he asked, shooting him a smile as a suggestion for him to follow suit more than anything else.

“Is there anyone in the base you _haven’t_ kissed?” he asked sourly. Poe held back a chuckle. He wondered if his friend was jealous. He’d never seen the young man flirting around the base. He got the feeling the too serious teen had never bothered to date. Maybe he just didn’t know how to go about it, though.

Poe acted like he was putting serious consideration into the question, but then he grinned at Ben in a way that made the teen look wary.

“Well, you, for one,” he offered. Ben took a step back. “You’re right, it’ll be a blemish on my otherwise perfect record,” Poe stepped forward to close the gap between them. He didn’t usually like to tease Ben. He was already so easily overwhelmed. Today, though, his smart ass comments would get proper retaliation. The younger teen had just delayed his time with T’leh.

Poe leaned forward a bit, and was about to pull away with some great, hilarious comment when he felt himself stumbling back and onto his ass. Ben had his hands up defensively and seemed just as startled at the reminder of his powers as Poe was. Ben rushed forward, grabbing his hands to pull him back up.

“I’m so sorry!” he burst, his face burning red right to the tips of his ears.

“It’s all right.” Poe hadn’t actually intended to kiss him, but as he was tugged to his feet the opportunity was just too good. He used the momentum to sneak himself right up to Ben’s cheek and give it a peck. “Now my record will be spotless again. All is forgiven,” he assured.

Ben was stock still for just a split second before pushing Poe right back over and onto his ass again. He was laughing as he was tossed to the floor. He watched Ben hesitate, clearly wanting to help him up again. He fought with himself for a moment, his lips almost forming an apology. He was somehow even more red when he turned about to leave.

Poe would make it up to him later. For now he’d let the teen pout. He never stayed mad long, not with him at least.

 

Poe was in the cafeteria waiting. He grinned over his drink when he saw Ben walking towards him.

No.

T’leh. T’leh was walking towards him. Forms shifted. The evening shifted. Poe new something was wrong. Something wasn’t how it was supposed to be. T’leh was in his arms. T’leh was on the floor of the hanger bay, singed beyond recognition besides the tools always at their side. It was too quick. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t real.

 

Poe’s eyes shot open yet again to the hands in front of him. He gritted his teeth, but he was prepared for it this time. He must be getting better at this. At this rate he’ll have mastered this in no time. This Sith wasn’t so scary.

The hand came very close to touching him, fingers twitching, as if itching to just grab his face and crush it. Poe wasn’t scared of it anymore. Well, that was a lie. Eyes flicking to the mask. He knew the Sith could still crush his wind pipes with the force in a second, even if his mind games were failing. Still, he steeled his nerves, and his voice.

“What? You think those people weren’t willing to die too?” he asked the dark cloaked figure, staring down the creature behind the visor. “They were ready to do whatever they needed for the cause, our cause.”

“They died for the sake of preserving chaos. That is all that will come of this resistance. Choas. Death.” There was a certainly in the deep voice.

“Oh, yeah, because the First Order isn’t known for killing people,” Poe said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. His head felled back on the torture pad the second the Sith’s hand pulled back.

“You’re view is too narrow.” Dark cloth shifted as Poe’s torturer moved in front of him.

“Oh, no. I see the whole picture, and there’s no way in hell you’re getting anything out of me,” he snipped back confidently.

The gloved hand actually grabbed his face this time, startling him. He tried to jerk away but the grip held him fast.

 

Flashes of friends, lovers, teammates, all raced through his mind. All dead, all gone. Eventually Ben Solo’s face flashed into his mind and it froze there. The Sith should have known better. This only reminded Poe just what he was fighting for, why he couldn’t let people like Kylo Ren be in control. He felt himself grabbing at Ben’s face before it vanished.

 

He was back in the cold, dark room.

“Fine,” the modulated voice growled, “Have it your way.”

Poe didn’t know what he meant. He didn’t feel like he was really having anything ‘his way’ right now, but the searing was back again and the world spun.

 

Poe was excited to meet the new comers to his home. The base on Yavin 4 would be put back into use for The Resistance. It made sense, The Resistance was the natural progression of The Rebellion. It was like a home coming, even if Poe had never seen the base in use within his lifetime. His heart swelled with pride to see the ships setting down one after another on the landing pad. He had climbed up onto of the temple like base to get the best view possible. There was two GR-75 medium transports and some T-47 airspeeders for ground defense brought in. Escorting the transports had been five RZ-1 A-wing interceptors and a full dozen T-65B X-wing Starfighters. Poe could barely contain his excitement as the pictures tacked up on his walls were coming to life right in front of him.

He slid down from his perch as he spotted a Troop Carrier coming down. He didn’t know the exact model of this one, but he knew it meant the guests of honor were showing up so he started down off the stone structure in a hurry.

When he landed on the ground at the back of the crowd, he quickly wove his way to the front. At the front he squeezed between a pair of resistant shoulders, but when he broke through he nearly stumbled right into the little procession. He stopped short of toppling into a dark haired boy, a few years younger than him. He stumbled back and barely keeps on his feet. He grinned when he met eyes with the startled boy who stepped back into his mother. She confidently put a hand on his shoulder and pressed him forward. Poe’s eyes shoot up to meet a face he recognizes instantly. General Leia Organa smiled at him, just for a moment, but it was amazing.

He fell into pace next to the youth. “If you need anyone to show you around while you guys are here, lemme know,” he offered brazenly. The general chuckled above them, but the boy just stared, seeming startled he was being talked to at all. “I’m Poe Dameron, by the way!” he tagged on.

“Ben… Solo,” the reply came out hesitantly, voice almost a croak, like he hadn’t talked yet that day. He flushed a little and Poe thought that was kind of cute.

“All right! Come find me for a tour sometime!” Poe managed to get in before his arm was caught and he was yanked back into the lineup on either side of the runway. He completely ignored the scolding he was getting for bothering the General and her family. He waved after Ben. The boy haltingly waved back, looking back over his shoulder with more concern than anything else.

 

Poe was falling. No, that wasn’t the important bit. His mind raced forward a moment, to when Ben Solo was smiling for the first time ever. Well, it was the first time Poe had ever seen him smile, at least. He’d been on the base for two months and Poe had yet to get him to crack. He didn’t seem angry, but always nervous, or contemplative, or otherwise preoccupied in his own head too much to be bothered with laughing at a joke.

Poe ached, from his head to his toe. He remembered casually boasting just moments before. He’d grown up in the forests of Yavin 4 and Ben on space ships jumping from planet to planet. So, of course, he had decided to teach the kid how to climb trees. In the middle of a confident step, though, his foot slipped out from under him. He knocked his shoulder on a branch before landing hard on his back.

Ben had gasped audibly and hopped down from the first branch, only a few feet off the ground, the furthest he had gotten. He was next to him in an instant.

“So… you don’t do that. That’s your first lesson. Were you watching?” Poe managed as he sat up, hand on his throbbing shoulder. Ben’s hands were over his face and he was shaking a little. “Woah! Are you crying?” he asked, instinctively yanking the hands down to check.

“Y-You were so confident,” Ben was laughing, the goofiest smile Poe had ever seen on his lips. “I’m sorry—I don’t mean to laugh at you. A-Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes focusing more intensely on Poe now. His hand was going to his shoulder gingerly, but the smile didn’t leave.

Poe ignored the sting of pain as his shoulder was poked and instead marveled at how nice Ben’s smile was. Why didn’t he do that more often!? Instead of frowns and furrowed brows. As if it were uncorked and Ben now didn’t know how to close it back up, he was laughing again.

“So much for the king of trees,” he muttered after a few moments of a giggling fit.

“Hey!” Poe snipped, playfully launching up to tackle the younger boy laughing at him.

 

The body under his arms shifts, his world shifts. It was dark and the shaking wasn’t from laughter anymore. Instinctively he pulled the body closer to himself. The room was dark, the body in his arms crumpled over.

“I don’t want this,” Ben choked back a sob. Poe didn’t ask and the teen in his arms didn’t explain. It didn’t matter. He rested his chin on top of the mass of dark hair, and let him cry. He was so sensitive. He couldn’t watch the ships go out for a mission, because he knew some of them wouldn’t come back. Poe wondered if that was why he always kept his distance from the people on the base; why he never seemed to make friends, because he was afraid of losing them. He wondered if that was why he’d stopped talking to him when he’d become a pilot.

It didn’t matter. He squeezed Ben a little tighter. He’d always come back. He’d come back for Ben, because he needed him to. Tentatively the arms that had been trapped between them, awkwardly reached out and wrapped around him. He was shaking less. Poe pulled him up so they were less awkwardly entangled, and Ben’s face instantly hid in the crook of his neck. Poe let out a quiet sigh and patted the back of his head. It would be okay. Whatever was wrong… it’d be okay.

 

The hug shifted again. Poe was excited, slapping Ben on the back. The world was light again.

“Smile, for the sake of the Force!” Poe demanded, “You look like you’re going to your execution, not like you’re getting to train to be the coolest damn thing in the galaxy with the most badass rebel fighter ever!” He couldn’t fathom why Ben looked nearly in pain as he pulled away to stare the teen down incredulously.

“I’m glad someone’s excited about it,” he muttered.

“Ahhh! You’ll love it!” Poe insisted, reaching up and ruffling his friend’s hair. “You love all that Force stuff! It’ll be great,” he insisted. Ben almost smiled, pushing the hand away.

“Stop it,” he grumbled, fixing his hair, though it really didn’t do anything to help.

“It’ll be great. You’ll be a Jedi Knight. I’ll be the number one pilot in the Resistance. Together we’ll wipe evil right off the face of the galaxy!” he insisted, hands on his hip, already practicing his ware hero pose.

Finally, _finally_ after a whole morning of gloom, Ben cracked a smile. Poe felt triumph rush through him. Suddenly, for all his excitement, he realized he was going to be sad to see the other boy leave. He felt an arm snake around his waist and the face in front of him fell to neutral. His heart sank. No. No, he’d just won that smile.

A head leaned against his shoulder, “We’ll all miss ya, kid,” the slightly older pilot informed Ben from his place tucked up against Poe.

Ben nodded, “Thank you. I’ll visit... when I can,” he offered halfheartedly. His eyes said it would be a long time.

“Send messages now and again, yeah?” Poe offered up suddenly. Ben almost smiled again, but not quite. This was bad. He was falling in love again, which was rude, considering the fellow pilot with arms around him, but he couldn’t help it. He realized then, as he stood, desperate for one last smile, that he’d fallen a long time ago. He’d been loving this dour kid for so many years now, it seemed only natural to kiss him goodbye, to go in for one last, tighter hug. He couldn’t though. Ben wouldn’t like it anyway…

“When I have time…” Ben agreed. He nodded. Ben nodded. He left.

He wouldn’t send any messages.

All the Padawans would be killed.

Had Ben known? Had he had a bad feeling and Poe forced him to go anyway? His heart was racing with the guilt seeping into him. He usually made it clear how much he cared for people, but did Ben know? He was so sensitive, so sweet, so in need of someone to love him. Why hadn’t Poe taken the opportunities he’d had to let him know?

He was gone now.

He came back to the room but it was a blur. His eyes were watered over obscuring everything. He barely even noticed the click and mechanical whirling noise. Before he could blink away the tears to figure out what was going on, the black glove was covering his eyes. He didn’t have the energy to jerk away and struggle.

Breath spread over his cheek and he realized the Sith must have taken off his mask. Kylo Ren was maskless in front of him, and too much of a coward to let him see his face. He’d spit in it for what he’d done, for who he’d taken from him, from The Resistance, from the galaxy. The hand pressed him back hard as he tried to struggle and the breath ghosted back to his ear. He jerked against the restraints. He tried to curse at him, but his throat was tight and nothing came out.

“He loved you too, once.”

Poe froze in his restraints, every part of him iced over as the voice hit him. It was a little deeper, a little older, but it was Ben’s. It was definitely Ben’s voice. His mind spun, as everything he knew shifted. This was Kylo Ren. He’d _killed_ Ben. Ben was dead.

But no. Ben was right here. Ben was here, dressed in black, hiding behind a mechanical voice and a dark mask. It didn’t make sense. He couldn’t make the soft hearted, sentimental boy into this-this monster. What could have made him into this? His mind raced for an excuse, anything to alleviate the incongruity in his brain.

“Where is the map to Skywalker?” Ben asked softly, pleadingly, into Poe’s ear.

What could Luke Skywalker have done to Ben to make him turn into this? What had he done? It had to have been something he’d done. Ben wouldn’t do this on his own. He couldn’t accept that.

Poe was speaking answering before he realized it. A pressure was thrumming in his skull making it hard to think anymore.

“On Jakku. A BB unit, orange and white, one of a kind.”

There was a paused. The hand lifted from its place covering his eyes and a sudden light headedness rushed over the pilot. He took in a shaky breath, and then quickly added another. By the time he thought to open his eyes, the mask was back in place. His eyes stuck to the mask, wide and desperate, but he couldn’t see Ben behind it. His stomach sunk.

What had he done?

The tall, dark figure turned sharply away and strolled out of the chamber, relaying the information to the guard outside.

What had he _done?_

Poe fell back onto the interrogation board, heaving in breaths as he tried to orient himself. He couldn’t shake Ben’s voice in his ear. It had to have been a trick. Poe so badly for it to be one last Sith mind game, but he could still feel the ghost of breath over his ear, while the other visions and tricks had melted away in seconds.

 

“That was barely ten minutes. Interrogations spent all day on the guy yesterday,” One of the Stormtroopers guarding the door murmured when the Sith had moved out of earshot. 

“Scary,” the other guard replied, turning a bit to press the button. The door slid shut and Poe was left alone in the cold, dim lit interrogation room.

Slowly, Poe put himself back together, shaking off the shock and fatigue. One thing became clear as he came back to himself. Ben was gone, regardless of if he was alive or not. And the First Order had to be stopped. Kylo Ren had to be stopped. The only thing he could do now was escape and make up for the mistake he’d made. He’d rescue BB-8, find Luke Skywalker, save the galaxy. He had to. And he had to make it home… because Ben needed him to….

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to note, after the interrogation, I believe Kylo goes and finds an excuse to throw a hissy fit. Like "I ASKED FOR A COKE NOT A _DIET_ COKE!! DOES THE INCOMPETENCE OF YOUR MEN KNOW NO BOUNDS, HUX?!" (and Hux just kinda sits there, eating his lunch and watches him wreck up the cafeteria like " ...(￣-￣;) boy needs to get laid or something, idk...")


End file.
